Seventeen years ago I became a mom. It was something I had waited for, prayed for, wept over, and pleaded with God for.
I wanted to be the one to change the diaper, rock the sleepy child, look worried as the baby cried. I wanted to name a child, clean up toys, and tell people to “shhh” during naptime. I wanted to make BJ and I a family, instead of just a couple.
Levi was born on a cold December morning. I wasn’t there. I was at home, waiting for the phone to ring. It had taken 5 years of infertility, doctor’s appointments, adoptions studies, and heartache.
And now the little boy who made me a mom turned 17 today. At 6’5″ I can’t buckle him in a car seat anymore, or rock him to sleep. But he still rocks my world when he calls me mom and gives me a hug. I’m so grateful for my soccer playing, tender-hearted son. He loves his family, he is loyal to his friends, and he has the kindest heart. I love you, Levi.
Happy Birthday to Levi and happy anniversary to me.